Hermione's Christmas Gift
by DivineQuill
Summary: It’s almost Christmas time and a certain Ronald Weasley is having trouble finding his other half the perfect Christmas present. Even with some help from his best friend, can Ron find a gift that’s right for Hermione?


It was nearly Christmas and Ron still hadn't gotten a present for Hermione. Naturally, this made him very anxious, but instead of getting up and actually doing something about it, he instead chose to vent his feelings of frustration by pacing nervously back and forth across Harry and Ginny's sitting room, which of course led Ginny to make the following comment.

"C'mon Ron! Moping around our house isn't going to get Hermione a decent Christmas present! You need to go out and get one!"

"I've looked," said Ron, collapsing onto the family's sofa, his hands massaging his eyes wearily. "I've looked everywhere and I haven't found anything. You wouldn't happen to have anything – er – extra, on hand, would you?"

Ginny gave him a scathing look, not unlike the one Ron was accustomed to receiving from their mother. To add to this overall effect, she placed her hands on her hips and scolded him, yelling, "Ronald Weasley! You are going to Diagon Alley and getting your wife a Christmas present right this minute if it kills me!"

When Ron didn't respond, Ginny whirled around, her trademark Weasley hair whipping through the air gave the appearance of a miniature fire storm, which was not far off her mood today. Between Ron's unexpected visit and Lily's attempts to suck the family's puffskein into one of her grandfather's Muggle contraptions (a vacuum cleaner), it had been a pretty bad day.

"Harry!" Ginny called up the stairs. Harry appeared at the top of the stairway, what was left of the puffskein clutched in his hands. The poor creature was still alive, but was missing much of its characteristic fuzz.

"What?"

"Will you go with Ron to Diagon Alley?" she asked him sweetly

Harry stared at her warily. He had had too much experience of her manipulating him to do things he didn't want to do, generally with that same sweet tone. "Why?"

"Ron needs to do some Christmas shopping," she explained, shooting Ron a furtive glare. "Do you mind going with him?"

"Er – sure," replied Harry, still unsure of what he was getting himself into. He came down the stairs and handed Ginny the mangled puffskein. "I've done everything I can. I think it'll be all right, but I'd keep an eye on it if I were you."

"Of course," Ginny assured him, stroking the puffskein, but she looked slightly alarmed when her hand came up with half of the creature's fur attached to it. "Did you tell Lily not to touch Granddad Weasley's Muggle things?"

"Yes and I told her it's cruel to experiment with anything that's living," added Harry. "I don't think she'll do it again."

"Good," said Ginny. "Now you and Ron go to Diagon Alley and do a little bit of Christmas shopping and I'll have _my_ word with Lily while you're gone. I probably should have a word with Dad too. He actually believes we _like_ this Muggle rubbish." She shook her head. "We'll have to make actual Christmas lists next year." (The vacuum cleaner had been an early present from Mr. Weasley.) She kissed Harry on the cheek. "Have fun!"

Harry decided not to mention that the word 'shopping' and 'fun' did not coincide very well together inside a normal male's brain, so he simply smiled and nodded. He walked over to Ron, who was standing and looking rather resigned at this point. Harry clapped him on the back.

"Let's get your present for Hermione."

Ron blinked. "How did you know?"

"Ron, we've been friends for how long? You go through this same thing every year! The real question is, how could I _not _know?"

Ron chuckled. "I guess you're right." He and Harry walked out of the front door into the softly falling snow. A passing Muggle saw them on the front steps and waved. It was Christmas time and that was a good of a time as any to show some neighborly affection. Harry and Ron waved back, but when the Muggle turned to do a double take, they were gone.

"Damn eggnog," muttered the Muggle and he continued to walk down the street.

Harry and Ron ignored the stares they received upon entering the Leaky Cauldron. They simply walked straight through to the back where the brick wall stood, the hidden gateway to Diagon Alley. Ron made a mental note to stop for a good strong firewhiskey on the way back. He watched as Harry tapped one of the muddied bricks and the entrance revealed itself, the bricks parting like dementors to a Patronus, allowing them passage.

"So do you have any ideas?" asked Harry as they stepped carefully over a pile of pewter cauldrons someone had knocked over in their hurry.

"Not really," said Ron, nearly tripping over one of the cauldrons. "Otherwise I wouldn't have even bothered coming over. You know how Ginny gets."

Harry wisely did not comment on this last part but only asked, "Well, what did you get her last year?"

Ron's ears reddened. "The same perfume I got her in fifth year."

"Why don't you get her a book?" suggested Harry. "You _have_ to know by now that she loves reading."

"But I don't know which ones she's read and which ones she hasn't! You should see how many books she has, Harry – well you have seen…"

Harry grinned. Hermione had an entire room devoted to books, her own personal library. They were even organized by something she called 'the Dewey Decimal System.' Harry had, of course heard of this, even in his stifled Muggle life with the Dursleys. Ron however, had not, and used every opportunity to make fun of it.

" – and she even has this weird thing to organize 'em all. It's called the Dooey Decibel Method or something…"

"Why don't we just look around and see if there's anything we think she'd like?" offered Harry.

"Well, what did you and Ginny get her?" asked Ron.

"A book," said Harry.

"But how do you know it's not one she already has?"

"Oh Ginny asked her if there were any books she particularly wanted and Hermione gave her some ideas."

"But I can't ask her stuff like that!" complained Ron angrily. "She would just say – " he changed his voice at this point, giving an uncannily good impression of Hermione, "Ron, you're not being a supportive enough husband. I searched and put in a lot of time and effort to get you _your_ present and you can't even try to get me a decent gift?"

"Wow that was good," complimented Harry.

"Yeah." Ron shrugged. "That's what she said to me last year."

"Well, we'll make sure it doesn't happen again this year."

They continued walking down the cobbled street. All of the shops were decorated for Christmas. A rather ugly wreath made from dried Venomous Tentacula leaves decorated the door of the nearest apothecary and enchanted snowmen were singing Christmas carols outside of Flourish and Blotts. Snow was falling steadily and the breaths of the passing shoppers could be seen on the air, like tiny friendly ghosts. Last minute Christmas shoppers bustled about, carrying festively colored bags. Ron hoped that he'd leave looking even half as cheerful as they seemed to be.

"C'mon," said Harry, "why don't we have look in Flourish and Blotts?"

Flourish and Blotts was crowded as many of the other stores were. People were frantically searching the shelves for something that one of their friends or family members would like, evidently in a similar predicament to Ron. Ron kept asking Harry if he remembered any of the titles that Hermione had told Ginny, but to Ron's dismay, Harry hadn't actually been there when Ginny had asked Hermione.

"No chance of asking Ginny?" inquired Ron dismally.

"None," Harry answered grimly. "I suppose we should go somewhere else then."

But neither Ron nor Harry could think of any other place to go. Harry was unsure why Ginny had been so keen on Ron going to Diagon Alley. It was more a place to buy equipment for Hogwarts than anything else. True, some people purchased clothes, jewelry, perfume, and books for their family members during the holidays, but apart from the last item, Hermione had little interest in those things. Harry tried to think of something, anything, to help his friend of over twenty-five years, but he couldn't come up with anything.

"I'm getting tired," yawned Ron. "Maybe I'll come back here tomorrow."

He and Harry crunched through the gathering snow back towards the Leaky Cauldron. As they passed Eeylops Owl Emporium, Harry stopped. There weren't any owls displayed outside like there usually were; the season was much too cold for them to be out there without any shelter. Harry imagined the cool dark shop full of rustling wings, glowing eyes, and clicking beaks. He remembered Hedwig, the first present he had ever received from anyone and how much it had meant to him. Suddenly, he got an idea.

"I think we should go into Eeylops," Harry told Ron.

"Why?" asked Ron. "Hermione's not going to want an owl, Harry. We already have an owl."

"Bubo is your owl, not hers," stated Harry firmly. "He's always out because you are. Working at the Ministry is just as stressful on the owner as it is on the owl."

"And Corax?"

"Corax is Rose's owl. He roosts at Hogwarts. The only time he's at home is during the summer and winter holidays."

"Harry, this is mental! Hermione is not going to want an owl! We don't need another one! She got a cat in third year, remember? If she really wanted an owl, she should've gotten one then. Besides, I don't think Hermione is going to want another pet. You know how upset she was when Crookshanks died. Hell, even losing Pig made her cry."

Harry frowned. "Hedwig was the best owl I ever had. But I still got another one after she was killed and he's great for mail and for company when Ginny and the kids are out. And when Albus picked out his first owl – you see James insisted on getting a Great Horned Owl imported from the States – when Al got his owl, he wasn't sure what to get, so I told him, get a Snowy Owl. They're the best."

"And your point is?"

"Owls are…owls are more than just for mail. I think Hermione would appreciate having someone to keep her company when Hugo leaves for Hogwarts next year and while you're at work."

Ron's brow furrowed. "It's not like she's going to be wandering around the house with nothing to do, Harry. Do really think she's going to need company?"

"There will be some days that she will, yeah. And an owl is good for that. When I was at the Dursleys, Hedwig was my only company."

"But the Dursleys were complete prats!"

"And half the time they pretended I didn't exist. Certain days, Hermione won't even have anyone in the house to pretend she doesn't exist because there will _be_ no one."

Ron appeared to think this over. "Oh fine, we'll go in," he grumbled and he and Harry headed over to Eeylops.

The emporium was dark just as Harry had remembered it. Great round eyes glittered like jewels. Ron and Harry peered into each of the cages that lined the walls. All of the owls had a bright curiosity and crowded around Harry and Ron to get a look at their prospective owners. Ron reached into one of the cages at a particularly shy Tawny Owl and got a sharp nip on the finger for it.

"Ow!" Ron snatched his finger away from the cage. "Bloody bird! I won't be buying _you_, that's for sure." He turned to Harry. "What kind of owl do you think I should get? And don't tell me a barn owl – they look like the aliens in those creepy Muggle comics Dad used to hang at his desk in work."

"No," laughed Harry, "that's not what I was going to say. Get a Snowy Owl – and it's not just because of Hedwig. It's because they're diurnal."

"Di – what?"

"Diurnal. That means they're awake during the day and can keep Hermione company when she really needs it. They're the only owl I know of that is like that."

"Well all right, then," said Ron. He scanned the shelves for Snowy Owls. There was one on the very top shelf beyond his reach. A sign was pinned underneath the shelf, which read:

_Please _DO NOT_ attempt to levitate cages off shelves!_

_Ask a staff member for assistance._

_Thank you._

_The Staff_

"I can perform a perfectly good levitation charm thank you very much," muttered Ron crossly under his breath. "Stupid prats who work here…"

"Can I help you?"

"Oh, yes, yes, certainly," said Ron, his ears turning a violent shade of Weasley red. "Erm…can I see that Snowy Owl on the top shelf, please?"

"Certainly," said a young wizard in emerald staff robes. He took out his wand and carefully levitated the cage off of the shelf, Ron glaring at him all the while. "This is a two year old, female Snowy Owl imported from Greenland. Eleven sickles, five knuts."

Ron looked over at Harry. "What d'ya reckon?" he asked.

"Can you take the owl out of her cage, please?" Harry asked the clerk.

"Of course," replied the young man, tapping his wand to the lock on the cage. He reached a gloved hand through the cage door and the owl hopped onto it. "She's a very nice owl," said the clerk. "Bred through an ancient line of Greenland owls. Some of the owls that came from this line you may recognize – Elise, who was owned by Armando Dippit, a former headmaster at Hogwarts, Moonwing, who was an owl kept by Gwenog Jones, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies, for the sole purpose of answering her fan mail, and Hedwig, who belonged to Harry Potter, who defeated the Dark Lord."

The clerk smiled slightly at Harry, but otherwise, gave no indication that he had recognized him, trying to keep things professional. He handed the owl over to Ron, where she hopped gingerly onto his arm. Her round amber eyes stared up at him and Ron Weasley fell in love, right there on the spot.

"I'll take her," said Ron, taking out one fat gold galleon and handing it to the young employee. "Keep the change. That's for you."

The clerk's eyes widened in incredulity, but he smiled and thanked Ron profusely. The owl was packed up safely in her cage along with three boxes of owl nuts for her, Bubo, and Corax. They walked back up the snowy street, the raw wind turning their faces pink. They didn't bother to chat or even grab a brew at the Leaky Cauldron; both men walked out the door and stood there for a few moments.

"Thanks mate," said Ron, grinning. "Hermione's going to love her."

Harry smiled back. "No problem. I guess I'll see at Christmas dinner then, huh?"

"Yeah, I'll tell you how everything goes, though Hermione will probably do it for me…"

Harry chuckled softly. "Bye, Ron." He vanished.

Ron looked down at the Snowy Owl, who was sleeping in her cage. He shook his head sadly. "You are going to hate me after this," he told the owl before he too, Apparated.

Two days later on Christmas morning, Ron watched as his two children opened up their new Christmas presents. Rose was beaming over her new broomstick; although she wasn't allowed to bring it to school as it was her first year, it would allow her to have plenty of practice time over the summer holidays. Hugo was delighted with an enchanted dragon model that could walk and breathe tiny gusts of harmless fire. It reminded Ron of the model that Harry had pulled out of the bag during the Triwizard Tournament, except this one could also fly and roar, the spell never wearing off except at the user's consent. It had been designed by George himself (with Ron's input) and was as of yet an unreleased product of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Happy Christmas, Ron," said Hermione, handing him a miniscule package.

Ron opened it, unsure of what could possibly be in a parcel so small. His eyes widened as he picked up what was unmistakably a set of car keys. "Hermione…"

"It is Christmas, after all," reminded Hermione. "And you did pass your Muggle driving test."

Ron's insides squirmed guiltily at that last remark. "But…but we already have a car!"

"We already have a _normal_ car," corrected Hermione, smiling.

"This one…this one flies?" Ron guessed, thunderstruck.

Hermione's smile widened. "But this one was enchanted and registered at the Ministry by me. No chance of the invisibility booster or engine giving out on you now, though I believe you probably _still_ could run it into a Whomping Willow if you really wanted to…"

Ron kissed her. If someone had told him the previous day that Hermione was giving him an enchanted flying car for Christmas, he would have told them that they were completely mental. But then he remembered that she had registered it at the Ministry.

"So you bought a license for it and registered it and everything?" asked Ron.

"Of course," said Hermione brightly.

"What'd you go ahead and do that for?" Ron asked in mock horror.

Hermione hit him playfully on the shoulder. "Oh, Ron. You know we couldn't break the law…not for something like this at least…"

"My dad did and so did me and Harry."

"Times were different then." Hermione stared at the roaring fireplace and the hearth where their two children were sitting, admiring their gifts. She seemed at once reminiscent and relieved of those different times.

"Well, it's time for me to get _your_ present," announced Ron several moments later. He leapt off the couch and bounded down the stairs to the landing and then out the door. Hermione watched him go with vague amusement. She wondered what had made him so excited this year. He had been practically deadpan when he had given her the perfume last Christmas. Of course, it had never been the gift that counted; it was Ron's enthusiasm in giving it. Something that this year, she finally seemed to have received.

Several minutes later, Ron's voice came floating up the stairs. "Close your eyes."

Hugo and Rose looked up, curious as to what this mysterious present was. Hermione closed her eyes, her interest piqued. She felt something rather large, heavy, and metal placed into her lap. She heard Rose and Hugo's exclamations of "Awww! and Wow!" respectively. She wondered what this could possibly be. When it came to Ron in general and most especially his taste in her gifts, no amount of intelligence could decipher the meaning behind him.

"You can open them now."

Hermione opened her eyes and this time, she knew exactly what he meant by this gift. She stared in wonder at the Snowy Owl that was blinking sleepily up at her from round amber eyes. She was beautiful, with soft white feathers the colour of snow on a cloudy day, small dark bars patterned over her wings.

"She's gorgeous, Ron!" Hermione reached for her wand, tapping once at the lock on the cage. The owl hopped down from her perch and settled on Hermione's arm, looking quite content. "Oh, Ron…I've never had an owl before…I mean you have Bubo, but I never see him or Corax very often. She looks…she looks like Hedwig." Hermione stroked the owl's feathers tentatively, like she was china doll that might break.

"She's a relation to Hedwig's," explained Ron. "One of the clerks at Eeylops told me."

"Really?" said Hermione. "Well, we need to give her a name that fits. Hedwig was a witch, obviously, but wasn't she a saint as well?" Hermione's eyes lit up. "I think I have a book on saints in my library. She gingerly stood up and allowed the as of yet unnamed owl to readjust her perch so that she was settled on her shoulder. "Thank you, Ron!" She gave him a swift kiss on the cheek and then she was off to her personal library.

Ron shook his head, but he was smiling. "You see that," he said, addressing Hugo and Rose. "We've been up for what, two hours at most? And your mother's already off to her library."

Hugo rolled over, chuckling, but Rose merely smiled. She shared her mother's penchant for books and didn't find this particular jab too amusing. Ron watched his children examine some of their other gifts. He smiled and leaned back into the sofa. Hermione reentered the room a few minutes later, carrying a heavy tome in her hands in addition to the owl on her shoulder.

She sat down beside Ron and began rifling through the book's pages, occasionally finding a name and suggesting it out loud to the room. Most of these names were rejected; they were either too common or too weird.

"How about this one?" suggested Hermione. "Modwen. She wasn't a Roman Catholic saint like Hedwig was, but she was a saint. I don't know," she added uncertainly, "but it's the best name I've seen so far. I like it…" She sounded doubtful that the others would, however.

"I like it," agreed Ron.

"It suits her," added Rose.

Hugo didn't seem that convinced. "Well, it is your owl, Mum," was all that he said.

"We're naming the owl Modwen," Ron told Hugo, his tone borderline threatening, "and you're right, she isn't your owl. When you get an owl next year, you can name it whatever you want to. Just make sure your sister doesn't call it something stupid until that's all it will answer to."

Rose gave Hugo a mischievous smirk, which he did not miss. He retaliated by grabbing a pillow from the couch and hitting his sister with it. Ron and Hermione watched in amusement as the two siblings playfully fought it out.

"I truly think this is the best Christmas I've ever had, Ron," said Hermione, laying her head on his shoulder. "I know I say that every year but…"

"Next year's will be better, you'll see."

"You're probably right. But this one…was special." Hermione looked down at where Modwen was sitting on her knee, her eyes half closed in contentment.

"That was a very thoughtful gift, Ron. I'll have some company next year when all of you are out."

"Thanks, but some of the credit should go to Harry," sighed Ron. "He helped me out a lot with your Christmas gift this year."

"I know," said Hermione, smiling. "And I'll be sure to thank him for it."

"You knew?"

"How could I not? But it doesn't matter whether it was your idea or not Ron. You made the effort. You both did. And that makes all the difference in the world when you're trying to get someone the perfect gift." She stared down at Modwen, a smile curving her lips. "And she is the best present you could have ever given me."


End file.
